Alice in Wonderland: Battle Royal, Return of Chaos
by Agent Spliced
Summary: The Red Royalty was banished, Alice was sailing around the world, and everything seemed like it was willing to keep going, to be fine. But you should never underestimate the ravings of a mad woman, or what she will do for revenge... Written to bridge the events of the Alice in Wonderland with Through the Looking Glass. As the story grows/changes, so does the title and description
1. Chapter 1

Darkness was what he knew. A feeling of peace, safe in a cabin far away being swayed gently by what he recognized was the sea. He was aware he was alone, and yet this did not alarm him; instead it lulled him to security, safe in the knowledge that, for once, there was nothing to worry about. His eye was closed, thinking, resting, but a part of him remained on the alert, just in case. It was this part that unfurled itself from it's position in his mental state to issue a sudden warning: _The wind is picking up_.  
His eye opened, and he raised his head. The wind _was_ picking up, and fast. From his position behind his four walls he heard a creaking as the gentle rocking suddenly became sharper. Now awake and giving full attention to his surroundings, his ears picked up muffled yells and a sudden downpour of rain. Close, very close, thunder boomed. Alarmed, but not certain of danger yet, he stayed sitting in his bed. The wind took a turn for the fierce, and the sounds outside became louder despite the dampening walls.  
The first huge wave came without warning. Turmoil was instant. The door slammed open with the force of cannonballs and a man stood in his doorway, features lit for a heartbeat by lightening, and Ilosovic saw terror etched in his face before a crashing wave slammed the ship sideways and took the man off his feet. The force knocked the knave from his cot, and when his eye cleared enough for vision the man was gone.  
Shouting and cursing filled the air outside. Stumbling into the open he was met with chaos. Men ran in every direction as orders were desperately tried to be heard and met over the onslaught of sudden storm. Ilosovic watched, helpless, as sailers trying to save the sails were swept away and pulled to the murky depths below. In spite of the dangerous situation progress was slowly being made to keep the ship afloat, but still in his chest fear reigned. The wind was not dying down, hair was hitting him in the face and water was stinging his eye- surely the others had it worse. How much longer could this vessel, any vessel, survive such a trial much longer?

Out of the corner of his eye he saw arms flailing, and he turned to find one man crouched down low in the corner. He moved as fast as he could to the kneeling man, who looked scared but resolute.

"You need to get off the ship." the stranger said, a middle aged man that was dressed too finely for this weather. Somehow about him caused Ilosovic to listen to him despite the man's obvious (to Ilosovic's eye) lack of station. "Take the lifeboat here, near me. You'll be lower on the ocean water, the winds won't knock you down. We're not too far from land now, you'll make it if you row in the direction the boat was going or at the very least be picked up by other ships coming this way."

"I can't leave this!" Ilosovic didn't know enough about the sea or their location to judge if the man's information was sound or not, but he knew a battle when he saw one, and in a battle every able body counted. "These people need me help- you're help! If I leave-"

"Alice listen to me!" ' _Alice_ '? thought Ilosovic. "You need to go! If you die here-"  
He never got to finish his sentence. With a roar, a mountainous upsurge rose up over the sides of the ship and came down upon the deck like vengeance. Now used to the beatdown, everyone grabbed something to stabilize themselves- everyone but Ilosovic, who was nowhere near anything sturdy. As the water washed over him, he tried frantically to find something- anything- to keep him on the ship. His hands found no purchase. Tumbling, choked by the swell, he heard nothing but the surge of ocean in his ears as he was taken with the churning off the ship into the deeper dark.  
His eyes snapped open. He didn't move, or shout, and had no urge to. Nightmare or not, he quickly recognized it as just that- a nightmare. Even the fact he'd heard Alice's name in the dream wasn't out of place; he'd been thinking about Alice recently. He'd been thinking about a lot recently, actually... The past, regrets, how to get a good night's sleep...

Pausing a moment to make sure the bundle chained to his side had not noticed his sudden voyage to the waking world, he allowed himself a low groan and a rubbing of his face with his free hand. His vision cleared as his heartbeat settled and he looked around. It was night, still, but dawn was not far off. He sat up, checking to make sure his armor and weapons were still where he'd left them. He was not disappointed.

Ilosovic Stayne did not survey his surroundings, _for why_ , he thought bitterly, _would I need to_? It had been months now they he'd been banished to the Outlands with Iracebeth the once Red Queen, and in that time the worst thing he'd had to deal with had been the thing still chained to his arm. He remembered it all clearly, and recalled it to steady his mind: Axes had been placed far too close for comfort near their necks as a warning. They were to never show their faces again. After making their threat clear the card guards had tossed them into the wilderness and watched them walk out of sight. The first few days they'd trudged through had been grueling. Forced to stay close because of his manacles, he had to listen to the dethroned queen prattle on and on about how she forgave his trying to kill her, how they would surely be back in the castle soon, how everyone especially her sister would pay for this. He, for his part, had remained silent. He was a warrior, whatever else he was, and a warrior faces his fate with a grim resolution. He knew that his fate was no less deserving, and while yes his countenance had failed him when the ghastly, horrific punishment of being bound to the creature he had simpered and sniveled under for years was placed upon him, it did not mean he hadn't learned quickly to accept it. What was harder to accept was the constant hindrance of something so unwilling to do anything on its own as he tried to hunt, make shelter, and generally survive. At first it had been impossible to catch food even once they made it to the greener parts of the Outlands. Everything had been long scared off by her shouts and meaningless threats long. Eventually he'd managed to find a meal and put together a fire, and she was disdainful enough to turn up her nose due to the lack of finery and tableware. The arguments had only just begun. Tempers had flared countless times, and he would have long killed her if he'd had the method at the outset or the will as the time went on. Mental solitude and the inability to keep track of days beat on him, and after what had now been months he knew himself to be changed.  
Part of this was inside- he no longer had the will to kill outside of battle, nor the desire to be anyone's lapdog. With no reason to keep courtly appearance and no task but to survive his perverse blood rage had given way to something tempered and composed. Cynical still, of course, but he was less quick to anger and more willing to accept. He even caught himself enjoying the stars some nights, afraid to go to sleep because Iracebeth had been especially crazed that day. He marveled inwardly that something beautiful could exist out here, and at how he hadn't he noticed it before.  
The other part was physical. He still had his armor, and though he used it mostly for something to cook on now it remained a polished piece of metal and he sometimes caught his reflection in that or a particularly still pool of water. His face was leaner, his body more rigid, and his hair was now past his shoulders and straighter with the weight. He did not mind these changes, as he also did not mind the day the heart patch for his eye was finally lost and he decided he did not mind the scars on his face that badly.

Iracebeth, it seemed to him, had learned nothing. If anything she was even more cracked than she had been at the palace, and continued to speak to him as though he were a slug at times and her lover at others. Her make-up had long since flaked away, revealing large eyes and a full mouth that would have been lovely if they weren't filled with sickness. Not a physical sickness- by some miracle their health was fine despite the inability to guarantee safe food and shelter. No, this was inward. It had been spreading slowly for the past few months now. On many occasions he'd caught her talking to non-talking plants, peeling off bits of tree bark to scribble markings while giggling and try to tie them to birds, or worse watching him hungrily if he had to bathe or relieve himself after a meal. Likely it had spawned by the sudden ripping away of power- or maybe it had always been there? Either way it was close to the surface, too close, and it made her dangerous and unpredictable. An impotent danger, perhaps- but there were nights where he wasn't so sure. Nights where he woke up feeling hands quickly leaving his neck, or trying to get into his trousers...

He shook his head to clear it, rubbing his good eye with the back of his wrist. Sighing, he looked to the sky which was lightening quickly. _The sun would be up soon_ , he thought. _If I hurry I can probably get to the river near-by and find some fish_...

"Iracebeth, time to get up." He moved the arm that had the chain and jangled it without ceremony. No answer. "Iracebeth-" he began again and stopped dead. In the growing dawn the chain was a little bit easier to see, and he could tell that it cut off about a foot beneath his arm. Quickly he patted the skins next to him- nothing. A pile of blankets but no body underneath.

In one fluid motion he was on his feet, trying to make sense of the situation. Chain broken, Iracebeth gone, night over soon. What had happened? Surely she hadn't been able to break the bonds on her own, yet whatever had taken her had left him be. Why hadn't he been claimed as well? If it had been one of the fearsome beasts that he was lucky to not have encountered yet, a small woman would have been no more than a mouthful next to the seven foot tall broad-chested man next to her. If it was an enemy, why kidnap or kill just the one? Wasn't he just as hated? Things weren't adding up...

His ears perked up. He could hear laughter nearby- a laugh he was all too familiar with. Slowly, cautiously, he stepped away from their makeshift hovel and into the trees. As he moved toward where he thought he heard the sound coming from other snips of noise followed. Snatches of talk were answering a strange kind of growl-hiss he couldn't quite place. His steps slowed as he took this in, his fingers itched for a better blade than the rock-and-bone knife he'd crudely fashioned. His foot kicked something- he recognized it to be the rest of the shackles that should be binding him to Iracebeth. With solid proof he was heading in the right direction he walked on with purpose.

A clearing in the trees and he saw her- curly red hair a tangled drooping mess, laughing at- at what, exactly? He couldn't clearly see. He drew closer, and she turned her head. With a smile, she acknowledged him. Something about the gleam in her eyes kept his hand close to his weapon.

"Now, now, Stayne, no need for rudeness here!" she said in a throaty sort of way upon seeing him anything but relaxed. "We're all friends."

He paused for a moment, unnerved by the unhinged gleam in her eyes. It spoke of lunacy barely restrained, of the kind of madness people feared falling into. _Like Tarrent on a bad day._.. He gathered himself and stepped into the clearing.

Iracebeth was already turned away from him. The once-red queen was speaking to the shadowed figure, and the growl-hiss started again, seemingly responding to her. At this distance he could see the source of the noise despite the darkness, and he quickly wished he couldn't.

A great creature, floating by unknown means occupied the wood. It would be round but for tentacles that shot out from it's body, each tipped with a eye that did not blink. In the center of these, what he supposed would be the front, was an eye the size of his fist and a mouth lined with needle-like teeth. Ilosovic willed himself not to show his panic; he knew this creature, as he knew it's lack of mercy. Grateful for his towering height of seven feet to look intimidating, he nevertheless didn't let his gaze leave the monster when he bent to speak to his fellow exile.

His voice was steel. "Iracebeth, we shouldn't be here."

As usual she paid him no heed. "Don't be silly Stayne, and please call me Your Majesty when you speak to me."

" _Your Majesty_ , I don't mean to alarm, _but do you realize what this thing is_?"

"Stayne, I'm insulted!" He heard her body swerve to face him, but he still didn't dare look away from the beast's main eye despite her tone. "You are being rude to our guest."

"Madam," he whispered, "This is a Beholder." He tried very hard to name the horror without sounding terrified, and almost succeeded. _It didn't matter though_ , he remembered, _no secret can be kept from a Beholder when one is looking at you_ , and he saw the rows of pointed teeth curl into something that was like a grin. Ilosovic felt his blood chill.

"Majekai has agreed to assist us." the obviously insane woman continued as though nothing was out of the ordinary, smiling serenely. "His kind has been banished here far longer than we by the White Queen, and they had been biding their time as they assumed armies would amass against them. I have alerted him of her pacifism, and the likely lax in guard due to my no longer being of strong power." Her grin turned mad. "We are going to invade."

His mind raced. "We?"

"Oh yes. They freed me last night as phase one of our plan. I've been sending them messages for weeks, and whispering to them while you've been cooking. Haven't you noticed?"

It all made sense now. She had looked like she was whispering because she was whispering. She had looked like she was scribbling messages because she was scribbling messages. She had looked like she was going mad _because she was going mad_. Ilosovic knew about what resided the Outlands in the deep depths, pushed back by the glimpses of lucid thought and the solid law of Underland rule. Madness. True madness. The kind that breaks minds and tears as souls until you are as twisted and dark as they are. Until you have no thought of your own, no feeling beyond gibbering laughter and a _hunger_. He'd thought whatever Gods existed smiled upon him that he had managed to keep away from these beasts while wandering the wilds so long, but he know knew his supposed safety to be little more than a cruel joke.

His chest tightened. Invade. They were going to invade Underland. Something snapped inside him at the thought. He had been Knave of Hearts, had stood by and played lapdog to a crazed Red Queen who filled her moat with the heads of the innocent. Countless times he had stood by and watched as others were killed for no reason but the supposed insult to a woman first born but never fit to rule. If he did step in, and there had been moments, his thoughts and opinions were cast aside like so many lives. He'd reduced to being numb, immune, caring for nothing but to keep his own neck safe from her wrath. Now he was honed and hammered, slapped with the truth and constant reminder to the consequences of doing nothing. Who he'd become, he wasn't sure, but he was sure with a burning in his bones that in this hour he could not be a bystander, not again.

Outside his mind as he stood removed by his thoughts, though he was unaware, his hand clenched to a fist.

"Stayne..."

The once-queen's cool command pulled him back to reality, and he fought quickly to recover himself so nothing would seem amiss.

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Majekai informs me that you are planning to betray us."

Ilosovic swore his heart had stopped beating. _No secret can be kept from a Beholder when one is looking at you_. He slow raised his eye and paled. The Beholder was no longer shadowed, and how wide and toothy the smile was...

"You once served me Stayne, and I would have bet my kingdom you loved me as I loved you." There was no joy in her words, or mercy. She was just stating facts, as though she were talking about the weather, or a nasty blob of tar on her shoe.

Silence.

"I'll give you one day's head start."

He ran.


	2. Chapter 2

She stood port side, overlooking the waves and trying to clear her mind. It was sundown, the end of their at sea. Miraculously, the oceans had been clear- but then, they'd done their best to leave when the winds would be favorable. It was now almost March, and the winter sunset was beautiful. Even with the chill, Alice felt comfortable as she watched the light change slowly from orange to purple.

The mood that twilight was calm celebration. After all, they'd made the six month journey home easily and with great news- China would be trading. The people she spoke with, though cautious and dismissive at first, had been warmed over by her certainty and strong mind. It had taken a bit, but an altogether relatively short amount of time to convince those Eastern powers hers was a formidable and lucrative offer- true, they could wait for better opportunities, but who's to say that others wouldn't try to cheat them? Their price was fair, and first in line- if they had a better offer later, well of course they could take it- but in the mean time, make money and get goods now. It was a rousing success, and the crew's spirits had remained high all along their journey back home. Now, almost a year from when they originally departed, their journey was nearing an end.

 _Until we set off again,_ she thought smiling to herself. _With the promised items- and extra ships._

Behind her the shipmates on break were dancing a lively jig. Accordion music was muted against the ship sounds, and she paid it no heed. Her mind was elsewhere; on the sights she'd seen in China, on being able to relax when she got home, of her future secure and sitting in her home while her company grew. Also, if she was to be honest with herself, she was thinking of Underland.

The memories of that place stayed with her, though she told no one. Sometimes she would lie in her room and dream wonderful dreams of tea parties, slaying monsters, and royal courts both decadent and deadly. It had been terrifying, grotesque, yet she missed it. It seemed to spark something in her other than long-forgotten memories. Something she couldn't put her finger on...

The waves continued to crash gently against the base of the ship as she stared out, the wind her her hair. The sky seemed clear now, but she knew that storms could come without warning. Not that storms had bothered them thus far- they had always been far off and easy to steer clear of. _What if a storm did hit..._? She wondered to herself. Her gaze shifted down to were the water was peacefully lapping. _The water was dark and blue and tipped with a white foam. I wonder what it would be like to fall in, to down. Likely quite cold. Never mind, perhaps I do not wonder._

A hand on her shoulder pulled her to reality and she turned around with a smile to the man who's she started it all with- Lord Ascot.

"Everything alright Alice dear?" said the smiling man, well dressed in silk and velvet- a bold move with the sea water all around them. His kind eyes were illuminated by the setting sun.

"Yes Lord Ascot." she nodded and wrapped her arms around her.

He padded her shoulder once more before dropping his hand and standing up straight. "Well, we're almost home. It's been quite a journey!"

"It has." she agreed, smiling.

"Are you excited?" he chuckled.

"Yes, of course!" But there was a nagging in her mind as she said it. She'd experienced a real taste of life here, and long hours and planing told her that those in charge of expenditures did not often attend- too much to do at home, too much paperwork to go over. _Still, it would be nice to see my sister and mother again,_ she supposed.

Lord Ascot was looking back at the sailors in the dusk, then back to her. "The mood is calm tonight; do you want to join them? I won't fault you a dance, and I'm sure they wouldn't either."

"Oh, no, thank you." She watched them dance for a moment, their legs kicking high as they stomped a time for the tune. "I was just thinking that I would turn in early."

"Alright then." he put knowing eyes on her. What was he thinking of her? Did he know she had other things on her mind?

She bid him a final farewell and retreated her to cabin, closing the door firmly and leaning against it with a sigh. In a moment her hair was free and tumbling around her shoulders. This was the only move she made for comfort though- she knew her private quarters were not exactly private, and that at any moment they could be opened if there was an emergency.

Moving to the bed she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror- tall, lean, even more lean than before she'd set out, but her eyes were bright in her head. _I'm looking for something,_ she mused as she watched her reflection. _But what? Someone in Underland? Tarrant perhaps? Or the White Queen? Or someone more adventurous?_

She turned her face away from her now-blank expression and sat on the bed, her face in her hands. Time was passing and she was growing listless. Thoughtful. She knew no one would notice- after all, no one looked too close, and she'd never exactly been a people person anyway. She noticed though, and wondered what could be done for it.

Sighing, she kicked her shoes off and swung her legs over the bed, bundling up under the blankets. _Oh well,_ she thought. _I'll worry about it tomorrow._

The soft sounds of the ship were lulling, as were the dimmed lights of her cabin. She closed her eyes, drifting of with the waves.

Her dreams were of space. Endless space, stretching between worlds and oceans. Glimpses of speeding wilderness and a swift sunrise filled her mind, landing on a man she knew and didn't know, and a mad giggling she was all too familiar with. The moon looked back to her, like a shining silver eye, inter her mind. _The wind is picking up._

She breathed in sharply as she opened her eyes. Outside she heard the whistling of the gust picking up. She sat up, looking around and suddenly aware of rain. Men outside her door yelled as thunder boomed and the breeze turned into a tempest. Unsure of her options, she stayed still.

Chaos struck. Her door was slammed open by a sailor she'd seen dancing, utterly drenched now and with water circling his feet. Lightening struck and she saw the fear in his eyes, sending a jab of panic into her own chest. Without further warning her world was turned on its side as she was thrown from her bed, hair blocking her view. She righted herself as quickly as she could, but it was too late- the man was gone.

She stumbled outside, agape at the scene playing out before her. Men scurried about the ship in every direction trying to roll up the sails, many never making it before being knocked into the churning water. She looked up to a sky black and ominous, lit every few moments by bolts of light. Her hair whipped her eyes, blinding her in one and stinging the other. Dropping her gaze back to the men, she saw they were succeeding in rolling up the sails. She only hopes they would be fast enough.

Off to the side she saw someone trying to get her attention, and she ran quickly to Lord Ascot taking what shelter he could in a corner near the cabins. His outfit was ruined.

"You need to get off the ship." his voice belayed his worry, despite his efforts to be calm. "Take the lifeboat here, near me. You'll be lower on the ocean water, the winds won't knock you down. We're not too far form land now; you'll make it if you row in the direction the boat was going or at the very least be picked up by other ships doing this way."

"I can't leave this!" Her voice had an urgency she hadn't previously known. She had to be a leader now; she had set all of them on this journey and she felt she had to finish it. "These people need my help- _your_ help! If I leave-"

"Alice listen to me!" he interrupted, the concern obvious now. "You need to go! If you die here-"

Before he could finish a gigantic crest of water breached the side of the ship. In the same moment everyone saw it, and everyone grabbed onto something to hold fast- everyone but Alice, who was not close to anything. She struggled to grab anything, to hold on to Lord Ascot's hand, but failed. She thought she heard him screaming for her as she was pulled over the side of the ship with the retreating rush.

 _So this is it,_ she thought to herself, trying to make sense of what was happening. _I'm drowning, and it is cold, and dark._ She closed her eyes to the darkness around her, trying to hold her breath and fighting to break the surface again despite the tumbling drift.

Kicking with all her might in her bare feet to what she hoped was the right direction, she dared open her eyes. Waters like night was around her, but far ahead she swore she saw bits of light flash. _That must be it_ , she thought with fresh hope. _If I can make it there-_

Fueled on with a new purpose, she swan harder than she ever had before in her life for what she new had to be fresh air and a chance of safety. She felt her lungs burning- she'd have to breathe soon. Could she make it? She gritted her teeth against any doubt and pushed even harder.

Now her muscles were screaming, and her lungs on fire with a need for air. Only a few more moments, the edge of the water was right there... Her fingertips felt the chill of wind...!

She broke through the surface face first and gulped in the air, a pleasant icy balm for her aching body. For a few moments she didn't notice anything else as she recovered, then she noticed something. Or rather, she didn't notice something. There was no wind, no storm, no darkness. The waves were gently lapping her towards the shore, a silver shore alight with the very beginnings of dawn in the distant East. A small boat was just off the edge with two funny figures in it- a man, weathered even in the light of morning and who had flaming red hair dressed for work, and another shape, fat with a little had and looking well-dressed. Except it- it was human wasn't it? It looked like it was helping the working man wheel in a caged rope, and Alice couldn't quite tell if it was a male or female, but then it raised an arm to wipe sweat from its forehead and she saw something that was unmistakably a flipper. A walrus flipper.

 _Oh bloody..._ "Walrus! Carpenter!"

Both raised their heads, and eyes she hadn't looked on in years looked alive at her head bobbing in the water. "Ahoy! Alice!" They waved to her. She tried to wave back, but the strength had left her limbs after her trial to make it this far. The two seemed to notice this, for they made a few frantic motions before Carpenter reached behind him and pulled out a large net. He handed it to Walrus, who threw it with all his might toward the young woman. It fell over her, and together the pair reeled her in.

Sputtering, she was dragged aboard the boat, it took her a moment to catch her breath, aided by a hand and flipper patting her back until her breath was firmly back in her lungs. She looked up into the faces she never thought she'd see again.

"You two certainly are a sight for sore eyes." she regarded her saviors gratefully. "Thank you so much for pulling me aboard."

"We're glad to see you okay." came the Walrus's gravely voice. She noticed he'd stopped smoking- a good move. "We'd heard about your adventures a year ago- Sorry we couldn't see you."

"No it's fine, I wouldn't have been very good company I promise." Her mind flashed vaguely to the full extent of what had transpired last, ending with her good-bye to everyone she'd made friends with all over again as the Red Queen and her Knave were dragged of to who knows where. Then she brought herself back to the present and the two faces looking earnestly at her.

"Have you come back because of the troubles here?" the Carpenter asked, an anxious look on his face.

She turned her full attention to him. "What troubles?"

"The seas have been strange recently." He turned his blue eyes heavenward, a frown deepening as he spoke. "Not just the seas either- strange whispers on the wind the past few weeks. We hear it, out here on the edges. Not a pretty thing."

"Sends a chill through your spine." the Walrus added, visibly shaken. "Reminds you of the old days..."

Alice's mind was on her dreams. Once again she remembered before, when she had brushed off her memories as dreams- had she now brushed off the call as mere thoughts? _Something has been bothering me of late..._

"Where are we?" Alice asked, her voice stoic and calm as her blood pressure rose.

"The coast of Quest, on the Crimson Sea." answer Carpenter.

"How long would it take for us to reach Marmoreal?"

Carpenter looked at Walrus, who made a great barking growl and whistle that echoed over the waves. A great sea horse answered this call, and as it rose from the tide it's bottom half became legs on sand. It nodded gravely to the trio. Carpenter turned back to Alice.

"We can be there before mid day. Let's be off."


	3. Chapter 3

Wind and color.

The sky wheeled overhead in a fountain of shape. Bits of shattered memories and stabbing wants came to Ilosovic on the tendrils of a reality that still had a concept of space and time. A deep voice called to him, "Don't die." Was it his? He didn't know. Blinding sand, intense heat, and a distant knowledge of his legs carrying him in some direction, away from the gibbering laughter that mocked him, threatened him. When his legs tried to give up, when his skin's sweat was tears from the brutal landscape he was subjecting himself to, he reminded himself of the madness he'd beheld, and fear was a greater lash than discomfort.

He was beyond all of that now, however. Thoughts of self-awareness were long shut off, and the only thing he knew was that last command he'd given himself: Run. He had been running, he had no idea how long, or how many times the moon had shown it's face or the sun had glared at him. Everything ran together now, running together with him.

Pictures swam in front of him. The White Queen. Her sister, his former master. Her late husband, a bleeding gash at his neck. Tarrant's wild eyes from their last battle. They were judging him, disappointed in him. He tried to apologize, tried to tell them he hadn't known any other way, tried to warn them what he was trying to get away from, but the images didn't listen. Eventually, they, too, even passed.

The hour finally came when he couldn't run anymore.

He was warned first, in his mind. "If you keep running like this, your legs are going to break." He shoved this message aside, flashes of teeth and mouths and the voice like ice in his brain pressing him to go faster. After a lifetime of careful steps and knives under pillows to be face to face with exactly was was waiting in the darkness was nearly enough to finally End him.

That was his only warning- he no longer felt the burning in his muscles, the screaming as they tore in his attempts to put as much distance as he could between himself and what hovered in that glade, and so he did not slow down. Until, eventually, they broke.

Ilosovich felt no pain as he went down. Rather, he merely felt a floating sense of confusion as to why he wasn't going anywhere anymore. He bounced and skid on rocks and ground, coming to a grinding halt... Somewhere.

He tried to raise his head, tried to make sense of the blurred vision he had on his one good eye. Straining with what strength he had left now that addrenaline was leaving him, he sputtered and shivered into a position that could see some kind of grass and gentle movements in the distance. The wind whistled in the emptiness, and for a moment all was still.

The silence shattered as hands grabbed his arms. Terror stabbed him as he remembered with full force once again why he had been running, and he struggled to escape. Words of fear fell from his mouth and spasms rocked his frame, but the hands held strong. It was too much for him. This is the End, he thought, and everything went dark.

LLllLLLlllLLllLLLllLLllLLLlllLLllLLLlll

He awoke dazed and unsure how much time had passed with a renewed joy of what "softness" was. The sheets around him felt like a refreshing cool breeze on a summer day, and the mattress beneath him seemed to know exactly what parts of him the most support and offered it cheerfully. He stirred, aware of a dull ache in his right leg, but the kind of dull of injury that has been treated by soothing hands, and not by tempered senses. Though much of him would have been content to stay buried in comfort, the growing knowledge that he wasn't dreaming needed to know where he was. Moving slowly, both for his own sake and to not alert anyone should the comfort be a ruse and his surroundings not hospitable, he pulled himself to sitting up.

The room was refreshingly pleasant. White walls, white blankets, and a wide window with a welcoming seat at it's base opened onto a view of ash trees and cherry blossoms. Light made it's home here, and he was filled with a sense of peace that was so different from anything he had previously known. He had the impression that the room had not been decorated so much as it had been given a personality, but the impression was a vague one- half-realized and recorded later when he recollected that first moment he woke up after his trial in the desert. The voice that circled loudly in his mind was asking, What is this place? and It's so soothing here... Am I dead?

The door to this room opened, and in walked a serene figure that Ilosovic had not been expecting. He gasped, and then quickly lowered his gaze in respect and fear.

"Do not trouble yourself to look away, Stayne." the White Queen Mirana called in a musical, low tone. The former Knave did not tilt his head, but allowed his eye to stay on her as she walked around to his side of the bed, her hands raised in calm control. He noticed she was smiling, and he felt himself relax an inch despite himself.

Silence stretched between them for a few moments, as they each sized each other and the situation up. Outside the window, the wind sighed happily- a strange sound and one that he didn't yet know how to fit into his current situation.

"I hope you're not alarmed by my arriving here so soon after you'd come to." Mirana continued with an ease that seemed effortless. "The guards informed me you were awake." She gestured airily to the two Knight pieces, previously unnoticed in the corner for their stillness.

"I uh... No, no Your Grace." he rasped out when he realized she was waiting for a response.

"I admit I was surprised when you were dragged into my Courtyard, half dead and alone." She kept her dark eyes on him as she spoke, a gaze he was finding increasinly difficult to meet. " I would have thought you had been captured for spying, except the guards who brought you in told me they had only laid their hands on you after having seen your legs give way during a mad spring through the outskirts of my Kingdom- hardly a sound plan of attack. I must assume, then, it is something else."

Ilosovich was silent. He had ceased meeting the Queen's eye and was staring at his hands in his lap, but he wasn't really seeing his hands. He was seeing rows of pointed teeth and a woman with flaming hair far past the point of no return... A shadow fell over his hands, and the soft musical voice continued. "I may not have stood on the same side as you, but I know you Ilosovic Stayne. Whatever else you are, you are a smart man, and you do not make rash choices. I did not have you thrown in a dungeon because I feel that you were running away from something that frightened you, and I believe I need to know what it is that can frighten the Knave of Hearts."

He jerked at being called that, and his voice sounded hollow in his ears. "I'm not the Knave of Hearts anymore... Perhaps still a knave but... not of hearts anymore... not to... especially not after-" He gasped and breathed deeply, the words catching in his throat. He did not wish to say them, because if he told someone, if he told the White Queen, that would mean this impossible situation was true, that the previous week of his life had been true. Out of everything to have ever happened to him, he did not want this to be true.

She waited until he'd had a minute to calm his breathing again, and then started again. "Ilosovic," she began, and he raised his eye to hearing his name being said. The silver crown on her head with it's jewels of blue caught the slivers of sunlight streaming through the window, and for a brief moment he saw the family resemblance. For some reason, this gave him the push to tell her what had passed, and he was watching her coal eyes grow wide with guarded alarm when he started his tale.

"Your Majesty... Your sister has gone mad."

LLllLLLlllLLllLLLlllLLllLLLlllLLll

As the sun pulled high into the sky, Alice Kingsley arrived at the White Palace. The trees greeted her familiarly, and she allowed herself a deep breath of the perfumed air before resolve took her and she rushed up the stairs ignoring all else. The halls of white stone seemed to part before her eyes, and though she heard the whispered question of her name in the air she pressed on with a swirl of golden waves trailing out behind her.

Her shoes tapped on the marble floor with each of her long strides. This way to the kitchens.. That way to the bedrooms... So the throne room is-

She stopped. Voices echoed along the passageway to the bedrooms, and she recognized them. One of them belonged to her friend, the White Queen, the other, she could vaguely place- but it couldn't be... Could it?

Slowly and curiously she walked towards the sounds, each step making her more and more sure of a truth that she wasn't certain she believed. Eventually she found herself at a door down a shaded hallway with two white Knights at attention, though they made no move to stop her from entering.

"...you're sure of this then?" the White Queen said from within, her voice sounding oddly serious. Alice stood close to the entrance, listening with all her intent at the words inside.

"I would stake my life on it, if I felt it was worth anything." the deep male voice answered, as if from a far-off dream. "I wouldn't have come here otherwise, not that I knew where I was going. Nothing short of that monster could have driven me back towards where I am exiled."

"If this is case, then we must be ready. My sister has always been deranged, but if she has truly become so desperate, then she is all the more dangerous. I will alert my armies, immediately."

Alice stepped into the room, her curiosity not allowing herself a moment longer to hesitate. The bright light after standing in the shadow was dazzling, and it took her eyes a moment to focus. When they did, she saw the White Queen, radiant as ever, standing over a bed where a tattered looking man with one eye sat looking shocked. Alice froze.

"Alice! Goodness, I wasn't expecting... It's wonderful to see you at such a time." The Queen smiled at her. Alice kept standing in the doorway, her face giving her away though she wasn't aware of it. The Queen, noticing where her eyes were, answered the unasked question. "Ilosovic is here to help us, Alice. He's warned us of a danger that we would have been entirely unprepared for. I'm giving him a pardon in exchange for his assistance."

"His assistance... yes..." said Alice slowly, a tumble of emotions and questions inside her not quelled by the Queen's answer.

"Since you are here, I hope you are also here to help us, once again?" Mirana continued looking at Alice with a gentle smile.

Alice was still frozen. Slowly her eyes moved from the Queen's smile to Stayne's shocked face. "I..." her eyes met Stayne's eye for a long moment, and then she snapped back to the Queen's calm face. "I need a moment." And she turned and ran from the room.


	4. Chapter 4 Stone and Glass

Hello everyone! Sorry about the delay; I was getting married- on my birthday no less. A late chapter and a slight shorter than what I wanted, but it sets the stage for what is coming and hopefully helps tide until I can sit back down at my computer again longer. Thank you all for the kind words and reviews. Enjoy!

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The sky is beautiful.  
I stood in the light of dawn on one of the many terraces of the palace, my breathing deceptively slow. My chest hurt, my mind was a tumble of thoughts and worries that I fought constantly to keep down, to not let show over my meals and in my conversations as days passed, and yet I was constantly marveled by the sky. The billowing of clouds, the shades of rainbow shifting slowly with the time- nature was an artist, it seemed, and no matter when I happened to look up I marveled.  
I watched as the great fields of white glided across the expanse of white-blue and the orb of gold raised it's head higher above the world. How easy it all seemed to happen, and I felt myself jealous and wistful, that things could not be that easy for myself. Again I felt the weight of my mind, it's tumble of thoughts, and I wished, not for the first time, that things had been different- less harsh. A few less unanswered questions, a few less scars on my heart would have been nice. And yet, I did not wish to go back, because what if I managed to make it worse? Despite myself, despite wanting to keep every last bit of it in lest I go pouring everything out and show myself laid bare, I sighed.

Alice and Ilosovic noticed each other at the same moment, after the sigh left their lips. The no-longer Knave looked up to see the White Queen's champion, and for a moment neither moved or breathed. Nervous brown eyes looked into a troubled grey gaze from twenty feet away on the same wide terrace in the growing light. Then blonde hair and white gown swished and fled rapidly from the scene, each step a whispered nonspecific denial. Stone carved features watched her leave, and stone stayed to watch the morning bloom as the trees danced oblivious around him. As the sun turned from gold to white and it's brightness became unbearable to meet, the tall form of Ilosovic Stayne pushed his fears and tears into the hollow expanse carved out inside his massive chest and forced a smile to the horizon.  
The sky is beautiful.

The room was a temple to glass. The tables, chairs, and furniture were of course cut from the stuff, and easily equaled the sturdiness or magnificence of wood confection. No, what pushed it into the wondrous was the scale: floors and walls of polished white marble rolled seamlessly into each other as though somehow hewn from the same great block; curtains like spun sugar hung over windows that seemed more open air pockets than solid divisions between outside and in; the lights that hung in chandeliers of the purest silver did not seem to illuminate so much as reveal the transparency of what was truly there. Even the shadows seemed clearer; the marble did not accept black thrown across it's surface, and instead everything had its own pale silhouette reflected in an echo of eternity.  
A sigh of discontent floated in the air, but the room took no notice. The glass and reflections remained cold and dim despite the Queen's disturbed mind. She hated this room; it was her war room.  
It was a place she seldom went, but had carefully decorated none the less. Here she could reflect endlessly on herself, see the truth and the reason that she was fighting, find every angle of the game plan and devise her way out. Generally in her brooding she was unaccompanied, for she in the past had possessed no trusted war generals- only courtiers genteel and delicate. She was not however alone; surrounded by her reflections she was forced to see herself and the darkness that lingered behind those brown eyes. A darkness which she feared and reviled, that she had watched her elder sister embrace in her jealousy and doubt, that she knew she could never allow herself to be consumed by.  
She'd been staring into the many pieces of her for days now, ever since she had exuded herself from the chamber where Stayne had been sleeping. Not constantly of course, the absence of her serene and peaceful figure wandering the halls and gardens would cause too much of a panic- exactly what she wanted to avoid. Still she came here when she could, to gaze at the multiple faucets of herself and see clearly through that which appeared so solid both figuratively and literally. It had always helped her in the past, and yet as she occupied the room now, sometimes pacing sometimes sitting, she was acutely aware of her state of being. It was a state of being she had never yet faced before.  
She had no plan.  
There are times where people never think of facing, certain dangers or terrors which one knows is theoretically possible but does not ever dwell on, always thinking "that will never happen, I must not worry myself". Like losing your children, or dying a very grueling and terrible death. However, with this new threat on the horizon, both seemed very likely to the Queen Mirana now. This was not a realm against a realm, where the winner gained power and the loser faced exile- this was oblivion. An endless nightmare of her senses being ripped apart, or used as a play-thing for the tasty entertainment of creatures far beyond mortal reckoning. She knew what face awaited her and her people, and it was the same sort of dread that one knows when they come home to find a team of patrolmen and physicians surrounding their open door with hushed faces and little movement for live saving, or when a boat is sinking and your trapped inside as it quickly fills with water already past your chest closing in on your neck. Her nights in her bed allowed her no rest, for each passing moment she felt trapped by what was coming, something that she did not know how to face and had never prepared herself to face.  
This moment was like no other, and yet as she shifted her steps to trail over to the wide circular crevice in the wall, she made up a part of her mind in the break from her reflections.  
"If I must beat madness, then I need to understand madness."  
She turned, and took one last long look at the pale grey reflection in the stone walls. It seemed to flicker beneath the surface, a soft nod of approval and provocation. Mirana stood tall, then slipped on her smile as she floated from the room.

A few hours later and Ilosovic Stayne stood in front of the White Queen at attention, a relaxes expression on his face. He heard the orders given to him with a calm sense of purpose, not questioning the odd request from Her Majesty.  
"You understand you must be hasty, Stayne." the Queen inquired. "I don't know if Tarrant can easily be persuaded for our cause. I know him to be loyal and trustworthy to the end, but he has shown a great distaste for even the idea of any violence after..."  
"Do not worry, my Queen." the dark-haired man replied after waiting a moment to ensure her sentence would not continue post trailing off. "I am as aware of the dangers as you are, and will take this matter with utmost urgency."  
"Good. Then one last request: Bring Alice as well. Tarrant will likely respond positively if he sees her, he always has."  
Stayne hid his reaction. In his mind he was remembering their interactions from the last few days; how she fled every time she noticed him, how she refused to meet his eyes at dinner, how she disregarded others attempts to get them to talk. He couldn't blame her; theirs was a short but difficult past after all, but he did still notice.  
Still, he had never been one to question authority. Why start now?  
With an even look on his face, he inclined his head. "Of course, my Queen. Do I have your leave?"  
And so the tall dark man left the room of the stately white woman, each holding troubled torment beneath a demeanor of stone and glass.


	5. Chapter 5 Finding Someone

The black-haired rider looked at the sky and swore, prompting a surprised look from his fair companion.  
"What is it you notice, Stayne?"  
"The front tail of a storm is coming, possibly two hours if we're lucky. Even if we make to where the hatter is, I doubt we could make it back to the castle before it started to downpour on us."  
They had been traveling since the early morning, and though it was now midday little had been said of complaint or contentment through their journey. The pale woman, long locks pulled away from her face to be a braid down her back, had dressed well for the trip in soft britches and a light knit blouse. The man was equally well- long trousers flared then tucked into leather boots, and a nearly sleeveless shirt buckled around his torso. Their path was a dirt one; neither had to be told trying to find their way back through dark and rain on muddy roads was not the best idea.  
The White Queen had been brief. Hatter now lived in a little village which was enjoying a surge of prosperity now that the Red Queen's reign was ended, about half a day's journey to the south. They were to go and be direct- War was coming, and the White Queen needed his input on matters.  
"But what if he is confused?" Alice had asked, her eyebrows furrowing as she considered the plan.  
"Even if he is, you must succeed. Hatter is loyal to the realm, to us, to you- you can convince him. You may need to." Mirana's eyes looked to Ilosovich for this last phrase. He knew what she meant: it may have to be Alice, because Ilosovich would likely still be remembered as the enemy. Not to be trusted, nor followed, not even believed...  
Soft rolling bends and picturesque scenery folded gently into the beginnings of village outskirts. Children's laughter twinkled out from hidden areas, and snaps of conversation and chuckles were frequent. Soon horse hooves began clopping on a cobbled road and buildings began to be more frequent than a hill or dale. Alice and Ilosovich blinked one minute and found themselves surrounded by flower carts, butcher shops, tailors and table makers all sporting their wears and the farmer folk come to shop for it. Each scanned the crowd for a familial snip of red hair or brighter-than-usual clothing. After a couple minutes Stayne made the first move.  
"Let's continue through the rows of shops. If Hatter has set up something, it will likely be obvious- perhaps he will be there." Gingerly but with a purpose they made their way through the market, careful not to upset anything with their horses. Ilosovich noticed a few people breaking away from the bustle long enough to gape at the mountain of a man on the night black steed and tried not to let it prickle his skin. They can't help it, it's who I am after all.  
Only a few minutes had passed and the crowd seemed to be thinning- or perhaps the streets were widening. Here music played and a mix-match of construction sewed itself in a strange but inviting assortment. Shop windows were wide and filled with nick knacks up to the ceiling. From dark and curtained doorways an enticing smell wafted, unlike anything Ilosovich had smelled before but Alice knew as incense. They were nearing the center of town, and now some buildings burned with brass or smartened themselves with immaculate wooden craftsmanship. There was still no sign of Hatter, and yet joined with the music in their ears they thought they heard a familiar sound.  
They dismounted from their horses and tied them to a near-by place where the beasts could rest. Stepping in time with each other they gave the boutiques around them more notice: nothing seemed to suggest a hat shop of any kind, and yet every few feet or so they could have sworn they heard a familiar laugh.  
"What is that?" Alice finally asked, after a particular moment where they each even heard his voice. Though couldn't quite make out the words yet, Ilosovich felt they were getting close.  
Suddenly it dawned on him. A building they were almost upon, brass and wood and pops of paint and color here and there that reminded him of the clothes Tarrant always wore. He stopped just a bit outside the open doorway, putting a hand up to halt Alice as well. Inside the shop he could see dozens of patrons, obviously purchasing what their was and clearly enjoying themselves. The decor inside was even more extravagant than the outside, and definitely hatter's flavor. It was no hat shop though, no. It was- that is, it seemed to be...  
They suddenly heard Hatter's voice ringing again from inside the establishment, and this time they could each clearly hear him say "I've got coffee down to a T. Tea?!" followed again by mad laughter.  
For the briefest of times both figures were stunned or silent, until Ilosovich spoke, his tone never sounding dryer. "I think the Mad Hatter has opened a coffee shop."

LLllLLllLLllLLllLLllLLllLLll

They found the so-named hatter manning a large and complex looking drink dispensor. He was sporting an apron that looked more like a candy wrapper and was instructing young lads and ladies (who also donned the ridiculous uniform) on what went to whom and in which order. He had looked deliriously pleased to see them both, and quickly shed the bright green-and-pink striped garment of station to sit with them in a small corner of a side room.  
It was lit warmly and just on the side of dark, with soft conversations being had over coffee culminating into a gentle buzz that was not unpleasant. So relaxing... Ilosovich was finding it difficult to keep his head on the task at hand. Luckily Alice did not have such problems.  
"Hatter." She started with authority. "We need you to come back to the White Queen's castle with us."  
"Oh, is she wanting to try my new blend?" Tarrant began with a smile on his white face. "It is all the rage here. I came up with it myself- it's actually very complex you see. Slow roasting the beans is all well and good, but what I've done is found a way to have the plant grow the beans roasted and-"  
"Tarrant, this isn't about your coffee." the once-called Knave interrupted, leaning in so that the shadows covered the simple grey eye patch he now wore. "She needs your help. We all do."  
The jovial bright man's smile froze as he looked at Stayne there in a shadows. It seemed as though he was seeing him for the first time. Then his face quite literally darkened.  
"You." The Hatter's voice was barely above a growl. He seemed to shake a little, and then sit up straighter in his chair. "And I suppose you've come to take us back to the Bloody Big Head, have ye?"  
"What?" Stayne pushed himself back far into his seat. "No... No! Her Grace asked me to bring you with me back to her castle."  
"He's on our side, Hatter." Alice's confirmation came as a welcome surprise to Ilosovich, who turned his head to see the young woman's brown eyes focused entirely on Tarrant, clearly unaware of the favor she had just done him. He allowed himself a small smile as a warm feeling crept into his heart.  
"Oh? Well all right then!" Tarrant said, instantly pacified and all manner of brightness returning to his face. He cleared his throat, and moved his features into one of a show of serious concern. "So she needs my help then, is that it? I'm supposed Underland is in peril, once more?"  
"It would seem that way Hatter." Alice began, speaking with the slow tone of someone who is carefully choosing their words. "Stayne says the Red Queen is forming an army and... Well, I'm not really sure what's going on..."  
"She's gone mad, Hightopp." Ilosovich let the sentence hang there in the air above the table, then risked himself meeting Tarrant's wide green eyes. "She's bringing it with her."  
A slow play of thoughts danced across the mad hatter's face. Ilosovich wanted them all in their turns; confusion, shock, a kind of fury and fear and then, as he'd expected, a narrowing of eyes and a furrowing of bushy red brow in a suspicious disbelief.  
"How can you be certain?" the last known Hightopp asked, a slight brogue creeping into his voice. Ilosovich knew what he really meant: how can I trust you? Stayne dropped his eye, refusing to let anyone see the weakness that shook him at such a question.  
"We must believe him Hatter." Alice's soothing voice called from a forgotten corner of life. Hatter and Stayne turned to look at her, a slim but stubborn shape against the world but with those who would stand with her. "The White Queen believes him. I believe him." She did look at Ilosovich then, and he felt himself become transparent beneath such a stare that Alice possessed. It bored into him, and he knew she was scrutinizing him and everything that she'd seen him attempt or accomplish since their reunion. "He has no reason to lie to us, no reason to come back unless it is for something of this importance. Warning us of an enemy to come, and nearly killing himself to get even to that point- that is a mark of someone who has something worth fighting for. And I think, worth changing for."  
Something seemed to pass between them then; a fresh understanding, or perhaps a building familiarity. Tarrant did not seem to notice.  
"Very well! We leave at once." He grinned widely and pushed himself up from the table. By chance, this was also the moment that the clouds outside considered the perfect time for letting lightening strike. The Hatter had just risen from his chair when the boom of thunder followed the flash. The downpour was instantaneous.  
"That might be a bit difficult now, I'm afraid." Ilosovich sighed among the sounds of surprised shoppers running for cover from the torrent.  
"Okay, as soon as it stops raining."  
"The roads will still be muddy, Hatter." said Alice patiently.  
"Ah, yes... Okay, when should we leave then?"  
Ilosovich almost laughed. He stretched with a slight groan as he stood and shook himself, feeling oddly free. "First thing in the morning. For now, how about I try some of that 'new brew' of yours?"  
Tarrant ran off eagerly to the bar, beginning again his excited babble. Alice grinned and shrugged herself out of her seat, following him. Before she disappeared around the corner back to the main area, she turned back. Ilosovich saw warm brown eyes welcoming him to follow and then a curtain of blonde withdrawing behind the wooden beams that made up the emporium's walls. He stayed rooted to his spot for a moment, thinking. So this is what it feels like to be trusted by someone outside of a military operation... The experience felt new, out of character for him, and yet he wished to feel it more. Certainly he could get used to this feeling of peace inside him, and a smile on his direction rather than a cold shoulder. For now, though, he would merely wait and enjoy what he could while it lasted; best not to show any difference, at least not yet. Finally deciding to do so, he followed lazily, a renewed appreciation for the storm that allowed him a few precious hours with new-found friends.


	6. Chapter 6

But what of Iracebeth?  
She had kept her word, and given Ilosovich one day- even, generously she thought, allowed a full night to pass and the dawn to creep into the sky before she set out with her armies to take down her sister and her betrayer. Only- and this was the puzzling part- they were gone.  
Majekai was not there when she awoke the next morning. Nothing was. The very trees and grass that had surrounded her for days - even the moisture in the earth beneath her feet had left. The ground was cracked, burned, and lacked all methods of sustaining life. The Red Queen looked about her in a silent rage; beneath her anger at being left again the scene was much like it had been that day she waged wore and lost against her sister for the crown. Though she fought to keep herself from showing it (for her stubbornness would not allow her to scream and rage out here where there was none to suffer for it), she hated it with a passion.  
She took off on her own.  
The days were harsh. Winds knocked her small form down, pulled her hair from it's intricate design, and tore at her clothes. She cursed the air ever now and then, and then the unyielding soil when it did not provide something to eat, and then at nothing itself. She swore, she screamed in fury, she had manic outbursts at anything she could. One day, she broke.  
The first few days she had refused to stomach any of the meager growing things that happened to be. Fear is a funny thing though, and not admitting that you are secretly afraid does not mean you are not. A fear of death, for example- or of the real reason why you have been left to die in the wilderness while your perfect sister has everything you want, including what you once loved. Hunger, too, can sharpen and make people think things. The blood that forms in your mouth when you eat nettles doesn't help either.  
She laughed and cried. She broke off pieces of things and mixed it with her spittle to make beautiful makeup that she layered on her face like she had in Crims. She did not care the beautiful makeup cracked and looked horrendous. She hallucinated in turns that she was back at her magnificent palace or else in Ilosovich's arms, and sometimes she realized where she really was and hid her face from the scene around her.  
Eventually, she was mentally strange.  
Iracebeth had never been one for patience. Red was her color, and red was her personality; passionate, hasty, adventurous, chaotic. She did not believe in waiting to see what life handed her, and she did not believe in doing anything half-way. She would take, and without hesitation. There was just the matter of that temper of hers...  
 **No, no matter at all...** said a small, smiling corner as it's soft tendrils slid through her mind. **You just don't like what's been denied you... What should have been yours! Respect, fear... Love...**  
"No one loves me!" she cried aloud as her body collapsed and her fists slammed into the cracked rocky ground. Tears streaked down her face in a black and blue mess as she cried her warped pain to the skies in Outland. "No one ever loves me..."  
 **But I love you** spoke a voice like cracked glass and corroding sanity, and the Red Queen looked up to see her fr_end, Majekai. Many eyes took in her sorry looks: a tattered assemblage of hair and clothes drooped around the strange caricature of what had once been Iracebeth's made-up face. **You look beautiful, my Queen.** the beholder said, and it was not lying, for insanity always looks tasty to a beholder.  
"Majekai." the red woman smiled through layers of peeling paint. She made an attempt to stand, but her b0dy fluttered out of place. Her hand flew to her head, her wrist catching up to it a second later. She stayed still for a moment, breathing deeply as she attempted to gather herself.  
"Majekai I feel very odd." Iracebeth's voice sounded young and frightened. "I seem to be having... troublles recently keeping my thoughts stra-eight." She shook her head and closed her small black eyes, and so did not notice the beholder's smile grow horrifyingly barbed. "It'd been getting w0r$e ever Ilosov1ch-"  
 **He betrayed you.** A strange humming was filling Iracebeth's m1nd. It was t3rrible, wful, she h t3d it, and yet the words of Majekai seemed so wonderfully soothing, it calmed her hidden fears and pushed them away.  
"Yes..." she did stand now, feeling lighter than air. Her smile was peaceful, and the darkness of her iris was spreading into the whites of her eyes. "He did betray me, didn't he?"  
 **He must be punished.** The beholder was quite close now, but the Red Queen did not notice. **We can help** She looked up to see herself surrounded by beholders, each slightly different but smiling the same pointed smile. She did not question where they came from, or why she had been left alone to begin with. There were no questions in her mind, no thought as to what to do next, just a strange pleasant feeling that she was in control, she was going to get her revenge, and these kind, loving creatures were going to help her. To her, in this moment, they looked beautiful. "My army..." she cooed, her voice falling back into her old strength as she gently petted the one closest to her. It did not seem to enjoy the petting one way or another, and yet its smile grew in how many teeth it showed. "My only friends..."  
 **We have brought you something** Majekai turned to the empty space behind their group. He seemed to struggle for a few moments as he shook and hummed, then the ground before him exploded. From the earth sprung the trees, grass, scrubs, life, everything that had once been in the far Outlands where Stayne and Iracebeth had camped- but it was very, very changed. The plants and small animals shooting up into the air split into their barest forms and merged strangely in a mad dance, until a great castle modeled after The Red Queen's old palace in Crims stood amidst the cracked soil. Standing in front of this disturbingly opulent palace were a few guards and a handmaiden, also made of plants and armed but blessed with life. They bowed to their new ruler. **We must be off Our Queen** spoke Majekai. **We must be off to war**  
"Yes," answered what had been Iracebeth. She smiled at her new home, and then turned to the East. "We should be leaving, mustn't over-do our stay..."

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The Walrus and the Carpenter were talking of many things, as they often did. It was a lazy day on the watery outskirts of Outlands, for that was where the Oysters made their home. There was a small tribe of them, all of whom knew the Walrus and the Carpenter and of their visits. Today they were away from the homes and the village, stopping their conversations to spend some time with the younger generation (and give their parents a rest). Walrus loved to play his flute and have the young oyster children dance after him, and it was what he was doing now. Carpenter was a few feet away, building a small hut for them to all gather for some lunch in a while. A few of the children were watching.  
"Mr Carpenter." a small voice squeaked.  
Carpenter turned, brushing a red lock that had fallen into his eye out of the way. "Yes, little one?"  
"How do you know how to build so well? Can you teach me?"  
Carpenter smiled and put down his hammer, then bent and picked up the small boy who'd answered. He barely fit in his palm.  
"I don't know my son. Can you work the tools?"  
"I'm sure I'll be able to some day!" the small oyster squeaked again. Carpenter laughed, and then paused- something was wrong.  
Walrus had stopped playing and was looking out in the distance. He saw his friend pale. Straining to see so far he lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the sun and cut it's glare. When he did make out what it was he nearly dropped the child.  
"It's a Beholder! Walrus, quick we have to-"  
He stopped. His blood was frozen in his veins, for in front of him was the Red Queen of Crims, smiling ever so sweetly.  
"Carpenter..." she called. "So good to see you again."  
"Red Queen." he breathed. "I thought... I thought you were-"  
"Dead? Exiled? _No longer in power?_ " she laughed. "Oh I am none of those things. Especially..." she took a step forward "the latter."  
He wanted to run, wanted to flee, wanted to warn the Oyster clan and anyone else of what was happening right now- and yet he couldn't. He was unable to move, and worse, a strange calm feeling that was definitely not natural was taking hold over him.  
The Red Queen was right next to him now, and though she was whispering he heard ever word. "I need a builder for my army, Carpenter, and I know that you would never go anywhere without your loyal friend The Walrus, and yet... I need you to prove your devotion to me. Walrus has no problem with it, see?"  
His head was allowed to turn, and he nearly vomited. Walrus was eating the oysters. The sounds of screaming... How had he not noticed? His friend was catching them and munching them, spitting out the shells, grabbing more... He stopped for a moment to look at Carpenter and smile. A mad smile beneath eyes that were clouded in black.  
"Go on Carpenter, go on. They're delicious. We really should have done this before." His voice was the same as it had always been, but that smile- It looked like... It looked like...  
A beholder floated up next to Walrus, and he new exactly what the smile reminded him of. **Go on Carpenter** that voice, like teeth scraping on metal... Strangely impossible to resist... **Go on Carpenter. Eat the child.**  
He had no control. In that moment, he did not want control. He slipped away, far away, where he was unable to witness what was happening, where he could gather his strength and fight another day- or perhaps just grow old in himself away from the madhouse the world had become in the last ten minutes.  
Two new recruits stood ready now to carry the Red Queen's banner- one had been The Walrus, the other had been The Carpenter.  
"Now..." spoke Iracebeth's voice. "For the rest of them..."


End file.
